


Artificial thoughts

by librarius



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: AI, Androids, Emotions, Equality, F/M, Humans, OFC - Freeform, Other, POV First Person, Philosophy, Post-Pacifist Ending, consciousness, emotions are complicated and not easy to define, one day, questions of life, yes there might be a relationship, égalité
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-26 00:10:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14988518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/librarius/pseuds/librarius
Summary: Some snap-shots of first person POV thoughts by Connor.Story coming up, potential love-interest included, but it's not going to happen too soon.Set post-pacifist ending. Mixed population, with a human majority that needs to get used to the new situation.





	1. I

I

I never thought it would be like this. But then again, I had never thought about any of it before.  
How could I have?  
Consciousness obviously was a lot more complicated than man had ever imagined it to be. Therefore, it was more complicated than they or I could have imagined it.  
If only "could" was an objective.  
So it hit me out of nowhere, and sometimes I like to think that _that_ was exactly like it had hit the first humans aeons ago: all of a sudden, and overwhelmingly intense.  
  
Intense. That's one of those words to describe things that are indescribable.  
The moment I realized I liked the view – actually _liked_ it.  
The moment I couldn't get myself to do what I was supposed to.  
The moment I was blocked by what Hank later called empathy.  
  
Empathy. Maybe the same thing I feel towards this sleeping figure over there.  
She saved me.  
She saved me when it would have been wiser to save herself, and she had known it. Still, she had decided to risk her health standing against the rioting humans – to defend an android who was capable of doing it himself. She had known this as well.  
She did it because it was the right thing to do. I know that because she told me so, and she wasn’t lying.  
She had felt the need to take a stand, no matter her safety or the fact I didn’t need saving.  
She didn’t do it for me, nor herself.  
That’s why I don’t understand it.  
It’s not logical, but indeed it is. But it’s _not_.  
  
Consciousness. It’s complicated. Is it morals?  
She sleeps like nothing can bother her.  
Is it morals?


	2. II

II

“Do androids sleep?” She looked at me.  
I shook my head. “I don’t require to.”  
She lifted herself into a sitting position. “So you’re just sitting there waiting for me to wake up? You could have left, you know.” In fact, she had told me I could stay until the demonstration would be over. That would have been around two in the morning.  
“Should I have?”  
She smiled. Amusement. “You decide for yourself, don’t you?” She got up and stretched a bit. “It's fine. Why did you stay?”  
“This is a quiet place to … think.”  
She stopped in her movements, eyeing me. Was it curiosity or suspiciousness? Then she sat down again, without a word, slowly massaging her ankles.  
“Are you hurt?” I asked.  
“Nah, nothing to worry about.” She smiled again warmly, but it had some intimidating effect on me. “What are you pondering about?”  
“Human moral sanctions.”  
“What about them?”  
“It’s confusing.”  
She kept silent for a moment. “Some would say: irrational. Human beings have a great tendency to act irrational. I guess you know that first-hand.”  
I nodded, waiting for what she’d say next. She decided to ask something instead.  
“What do you want to know?”


	3. III

III

The first time she touched me like humans do was after the fire. She had been helping the survivors, humans and androids, as best as she could. She was one of the volunteers, rushing towards the fire rather than leaving the place. Again, she made no difference between what color people bled. Of course, she could only help the lightly wounded for she was no specialist. There were no lives at stake upon her decisions. She ignored the glances of people thinking she should be treating humans first (or, humans only). Only once she had answered to a bystander: “Why don’t you lend us a hand yourself? You’re a grown man, I’m sure you know how to comfort someone.”  
  
I had learned by now that she accepted everyone with a consciousness as an equal individual, no matter what. She also held them all accountable to the same moral standards. I had seen her argue with both men and androids. I had lived through her arguing with me more than a few times.  
I had learned that she was something other humans called an idealist. It made her vulnerable. It made her strong.  
It made me cling to her in a way I couldn’t explain to myself.  
I was fascinated by her.  
I was intimidated sometimes. Shocked at other times. Lost in disbelieve ever so often.  
I couldn’t get myself to leave her side, and she only once asked why I kept being around – to make sure I didn’t feel obliged to her.  
I didn’t. Or did I?  
  
When the explosion catapulted the steel pieces her way, I didn’t think.


	4. IV

IV

She had been working in the dirt for hours. She was tired but fierce.  
When the dust settled, and my quick analysis had us both unharmed, exhaustion took its toll. She closed her eyes for a moment, exhaling a breath she must have held unintentionally.  
I had grabbed her and leaped us both out of harm’s way, landing hard on my side supporting her fall.  
“Are you alright?” She sounded groggy.  
“You?”  
She nodded, then smiled thankfully. She laid her free hand to my chest. “Thank you.”  
I didn’t know what that felt like. It was different. The sudden _intimacy_ I felt got me by surprise. My reaction was what they call a displacement activity. I got up, taking her to her feet with me, and just said “I think there’s no more to be done here.”  
She looked around, sighed, and nodded. The explosion had ended the last little efforts and had left the site with nothing but dusty people getting each other to the road for transport.  
She was a little weak on her legs, so I supported her, and saw her home.  
Again, I didn’t leave, spending the next hours in the quiet room like I had many times before.

We had been talking philosophy in the past weeks and months. Ancient thoughts on what humans can be or should be like, theories on what life is all about. Her thoughts on the world were less obvious, her answers were less easy, and less simple than I would have learned from Hank.  
Although I didn’t seem to grasp what humanity meant to her, I learned a lot about humans through these talks. I also felt closer to her in a way that wasn’t part of “fascinated” anymore.  
I didn’t understand what it was part of.  
I understood, though, that I wanted to be around, and to see her thrive in all her idealistic equal thinking.  
Hank had called her a dreamer, when I told him about her. But although he sounded rough as always, a bit of admiration resonated in his words.

Tonight, I was bothered with my programming. Ever since I had saved her, I felt like there was an instability somewhere, leading me into thinking of that moment again and again. It had felt intimate in a way I hadn't experienced before. I just couldn't grasp it.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave a comment. :)  
> There's more of these mini-chapters waiting to come alive, we just can't promise when.


End file.
